by C J Baty
Justin rose carefully and leaned against Marcus as the two made their way to the foyer and the staircase. Marcus couldn’t help but feel good about the warm pressure of Justin against his side. He’d also noticed that Justin seemed more relaxed as they talked tonight; hopefully that meant they would be able to at least be friends. Marcus wasn’t ready to let himself hope for anything more than that.
Taking the stairs slowly, Marcus finally got Justin to his bedroom door. He stopped at the door, not wanting to overstep this newfound connection they had forged.
“Do you need any help?”
Justin opened the door and turned back to face him.
“I think I can handle it from here. Good night.” Justin entered his bedroom and closed the door softly.
Marcus stood there a moment and just looked at the door. He was being foolish again and he knew it, but he was glad he’d answered Peter’s call.
Helping Justin and Peter was a good thing to do. He stepped across the hall and opened his bedroom door as Justin’s door opened again.
“Marcus,” Justin said quietly. “I just wanted to say thank you for coming. I’m really glad you’re here. It means a lot to Peter, and it means a lot to me.”
“Hey, no problem. That’s what friends are for,” Marcus said, smiling across the hall at Justin.
“And . . . I . . . well, I’m sorry about how I acted last summer. It was just that I thought I was doing the right thing.” The look of sadness on Justin’s face tugged at Marcus’s heart.
“It’s late, Justin. Maybe we can talk about it later, when you’ve had some rest,” Marcus answered.
“I’d like that, to talk about it, I mean. If you would?”
Marcus felt his heart catch in his throat and the blood rush through his veins. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He took a deep breath to calm himself.
“I’d like that very much, whenever you’re ready.”
Justin smiled at Marcus warmly and closed the door.
7
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JUSTIN COULD HEAR Marcus’s voice through his bedroom door. He was standing in the hall talking with someone. The conversation was one-sided so he must have been on his cell phone.
“It’s okay. Of course you can come here. How far away are you?” There was a pause, and then Marcus said, “Whatever is going on you can trust me. I’m here for you, and you know that.”
Marcus was quiet again for a few moments. His voice was laced with concern when he continued to speak.
“Check in at the Warfield. Tell Peter I sent you. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”
Marcus’s fading footsteps echoed down the hall and disappeared, leaving Justin alone with his thoughts and wondering about whom Marcus had been talking to.
Last night, they’d crossed the bridge separating them. They’d promised to talk, and Justin had felt like it was a new beginning for them. Now, he wondered if he was too late. Maybe Marcus had moved on. Justin wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Surprisingly, though, Justin felt much better physically this morning. The dizziness and nausea seemed under control, as long as he didn’t make quick movements, like when he’d tried to bend over to slip his shoes on this morning. He managed the walk down the hall just fine, but for precautions sake, he held the handrail on the stairs tightly and didn’t look down as he took the steps one at a time.
As he reached the bottom, laughter floated through the air, coming from the direction of the kitchen. Winnie’s high-pitched giggle was followed by a deep throaty chuckle. Marcus. The sound of his laughter caused Justin’s skin to prickle and blood to rush to his face. He felt his cheeks warm. It was a beautiful sound. He stopped at the doorway and observed Marcus as he sat at the small kitchen table.
“I can’t believe Justin was ever that young or that foolish,” Marcus said as he picked up a mug Winnie had just placed in front of him. He let the steam
from the coffee wash over his face before he took his first sip. An appreciative groan slipped from his lips as soon as he swallowed.
“Good Lord, Miss Winnie. That is some of the best coffee I’ve ever tasted.”
The smile he gave Winnie nearly melted the poor woman where she stood by the stove. Justin knew how that smile affected him, so he couldn’t blame her for the shy grin on her face.
“Don’t you try that with me, Mister Marcus. Save that smile for somebody special.” Winnie giggled and winked at Marcus then turned her focus back to the pans on the stove.
Justin cleared his throat to make his presence known, and both Marcus and Winnie turned to face him.
“Mister Justin, you did not come down those stairs all by yourself, did you?”
“I feel fine, Winnie, no need to fuss. Just pour me some of that coffee Marcus is bragging about,” Justin said as he pulled a chair out at the table. He sat next to Marcus so he wouldn’t get caught staring at him.
Now that Justin had some rest and his head was feeling better, not looking at Marcus was going to be hard. All that black silk draped in loose curls made Justin’s heart hum. He remembered exactly how luxurious it felt on his fingertips. He caught himself before his hand reached out to push the tendrils back from Marcus’s face.
“So what else did Justin get up to as a kid,” Marcus asked, causing more giggles from Winnie.
“Oh, no. No more stories about me.” Justin put his hand up to stop Winnie from starting another tale. “How about some eggs and toast instead?”
“Sure thing, Mister Justin. You want some bacon to go with that? Fried up nice and crispy,” Winnie asked, then turned to Marcus. “I’ll fix you some too, Mister Marcus.”
Winnie busied herself with pans and retrieving items from the refrigerator.
Before long the kitchen was filled with the sound of sizzling bacon and an aroma that made Justin’s stomach grumble.
Marcus got up and refilled his coffee cup, then brought the pot to the table and refilled Justin’s as well. He returned to his seat and faced Justin.
“About last night,” he started, but Justin stopped him by shaking his head no.
He didn’t want to discuss this in front of Winnie. She’d be very upset if she heard about Alexander’s late night visit. He looked toward Winnie, and while her back was turned to them, said, “After breakfast.” Marcus nodded his head.
They ate in a companionable silence, and Justin relaxed. Winnie hummed some tune as she shuffled around the kitchen paying them no mind. Marcus tried to clear the table when they finished eating, but Winnie wouldn’t have it. She refilled their coffee cups and shooed them out of the kitchen.
Justin led the way to the front parlor, and they each took a seat. Marcus was sitting across from him now, and Justin had no choice but to look at him.
Though he knew they should talk about Alexander and last night’s happenings, Justin found himself wishing that Marcus would bring up their personal issues instead. When Marcus finally spoke, it wasn’t what Justin was expecting at all.
“Did you know that your father kept journals most of his life?”
“What?”
“Your father wrote in journals. Remember, I told you about them last night.
The ones I found in the attic date from his teenage years. I believe he may have continued writing in journals as an adult as well.” Marcus hesitated.
“Did you know he was in love with Moses Lee’s mother, Cecilia?”
Justin dropped the almost empty coffee cup he was holding and its contents sloshed onto the carpet. He stared at Marcus.
“What the hell are you talking about? You read my father’s journals? Where did you find them?”
Justin must have been out of it more last night than he had realized. Marcus reminded him of their conversation from the previous night, and then he continued to explain what he thought about them.
“It’s just a hunch at this point, but I think your intruder was looking for something written in your father’s journals. It looks like the
ones he found that night you were attacked were thrown to the side of one of the boxes that was overturned. Since he didn’t find the other boxes I found when I looked through the attic, he didn’t have a chance to go through them.”
“Why would Alexander need to see my father’s journals? Marcus, this just doesn’t make any sense,” Justin said.
“That’s another thing. I don’t believe Alexander was the person who was here the night you were injured. The shoes were wrong,” Marcus said, a sly grin crossing his lips.
“Shoes?” Justin was beginning to get a headache. He rubbed his temples roughly.
“The kid wore tennis shoes, and you said you saw boots. Of course, he could have worn different shoes, but Alexander didn’t look like a kid who would wear work boots.”
Justin thought about that, and Marcus was right. The boots Justin had gotten a brief look at were heavy-duty work boots. They were wet and covered in mud.
“So what do we do now?” Justin asked.
Marcus started to speak, but the front doorbell rang.
“Should I get it? Winnie was pretty busy in the kitchen,” Marcus asked.
“That would nice of you,” Justin answered, smiling.
Justin could hear Marcus’s steps down the hall and his voice as he spoke to whomever had rung the bell. Shortly after, Marcus returned with Richard Brooks following behind him.
“Justin. You’ve got some company.” Marcus stepped aside to allow Richard into the room.
“Richard, what are you doing here?” Justin asked from his seat on the couch.
He shook his ex-brother-in-law’s hand as he came to stand in front of Justin.
There was something different about the man. Justin couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He looked toward Marcus and saw him shrug his shoulders.
“I know this is unexpected. Father asked me to come by and see how you were doing,” Richard said as he sat down across from Justin.
“How are your parents?” Justin asked.
“Father spends most of his time at the sanatorium where mother is recuperating. She doesn’t remember last summer.” Richard wrung his hands as he glanced out a window on his left. “She keeps asking about Caroline, and it’s getting more difficult to keep the truth from her.”
“Wouldn’t she be better off knowing the truth?” Marcus moved across the room to lean against the bar.
Richard’s gaze drifted to the bottles lining the bar. His face flushed, and he turned back to face Justin quickly.
“The doctor says not yet. Anyway, I’m here to see how you are. They still think of you as family, you know.” Justin noticed that Richard’s color was growing pale as he spoke. He assumed it was because he needed a drink.
“I’m fine,” Justin answered. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No. No, I’m fine.” Richard twisted in his seat, nervously tapping the chair arm with his fingers.
“He has a concussion and should be in bed resting.” Marcus spoke up, staring pointedly at Justin.
“I’ll be fine when everyone just leaves me alone.”
“Well it’s good to know that the tree only knocked you out. We’d heard that you could have broken something or worse.” Richard stood to his feet and moved toward the foyer. “I’ll let Father know.” Just before he reached the door, he turned back to face Justin and Marcus.
“I also wanted to apologize for my behavior last summer.”
Justin was shocked by his words. He’d never seen Richard Brooks apologetic for anything, much less his behavior. Justin wasn’t sure how to respond.
“I just needed to say that. It was good to see you, Justin, and I’m glad you’re okay.”
With that said, Richard Brooks let himself out the front door.
“So what was that all about?”
“I have no idea.” Justin stared at the door where Richard had just exited.
“You need to be resting, Mister Justin. Bed is where you need to be,” Winnie said as she cleared away the lunch dishes.
“She’s right, Justin,” Marcus stood, then added. “I need to see Peter about something, so take a nap and I’ll see you later.”
“I’m not an invalid.” But even as Justin said the words, he realized he was still out of it. He supposed a nap wouldn’t kill him.
Though wondering whom Marcus was going to meet at the Warfield, kept Justin from falling asleep. Whoever it was, the person was important to Marcus. Justin could tell from the way he had spoken to them over the phone. Reassuring and gentle as he spoke.
He was just getting up to go down to dinner when a soft knock at his bedroom door stopped him. Winnie peeked around the door, then entered with a tray.
“What’s all this?” Justin asked.
“Your dinner,” Winnie sat the tray on the bedside table. “Mr. Marcus called and he’s having dinner at the Warfield, so there’s no reason for you to be up and about.”
A pang of jealous ran through Justin.
“Did he say if he was staying at the hotel tonight?” Justin snapped at her.
Winnie fussed over the plate she had brought on the tray before she answered.
“He said he’d be home later.”
She didn’t seem to notice that Justin had been rude, but he felt bad nonetheless. Why was he letting this get to him? Just because Marcus was meeting someone at the hotel didn’t mean it was a lover. And what right did he have to be jealous or upset. None. He’d pushed Marcus away, so it was his own fault.
The next morning Justin was feeling almost like himself. The nausea was completely gone. While getting dressed, he noted that the dizziness was
gone too. He met Marcus downstairs in the front parlor, and the two of them went to the kitchen to enjoy Winnie’s breakfast.
“Do you feel like discussing those journals we started to talk about yesterday? I can go grab a couple of them from my room?” Marcus asked as they made themselves comfortable in the parlor with their after-breakfast coffee.
Justin was about to respond when his phone started ringing. “Hold that thought,” he said to Marcus as he looked down at the screen. “It’s Peter.”
He answered the call, but immediately drew his phone away from his ear as the sound of loud angry voices screamed through the speaker of the phone.
“Peter!” Justin yelled into the receiver when there seemed to be a break in the noise.
“Justin? Thank God. Are you well enough to come to the hotel?”
“What’s—”
Justin was cut off again by the yelling starting up again, and then Peter yelled at everyone to shut up.
“Justin we have a problem here. Richard Brooks showed up here wanting to apologize to me about his behavior last summer. I talked with him a bit and was walking with him out to the lobby when Marcus’s assistant, Daisy Marshall, was coming down the stairs from the second floor. Richard took one look at her and she at him, then all hell broke loose. They started screaming at each other and it hasn’t stopped. I need you and Marcus here ASAP!” Peter hung up, leaving Justin staring at his cell and wondering what the fuck was going on.
“I’ll get my keys and wallet,” Marcus said, running for the stairs. Justin could only look after him in confusion.
Whatever the uproar going on when Peter called him, the lobby was quiet when Marcus held the door open for Justin to enter the hotel. Justin looked up to see Robert standing behind the counter at the reservation desk.
“You’re looking good, Justin. How are you feeling?” Robert added, “I was really worried about you.”
“I’m doing much better, thanks.”
Justin started across the lobby but then realized Robert probably knew where everyone had gone.
“Where’s Peter?” Justin turned back to the reception desk, surprised to see the look of fury on Robert’s face as he glared at Marcus. Marcus was standing rigid with his hands shoved tightly in his jean pockets and looked just as irate as his employee. Strange .
Robert broke from his
staredown with Marcus long enough to tell Justin that he was in his office with Richard Brooks.
“Where’s Daisy?” Marcus asked sharply.
“She couldn’t get away from Brooks fast enough. She went back to her room. I sent a breakfast tray up to her.” Robert’s laugh wasn’t a happy one.
“She seems like a nice lady. Her reaction to Richard was really crazy though.
I hope she’s all right now.”
“I’m going to go check on her. You going to be okay?”
Though he wasn’t sure what the confrontation between Marcus and Robert was about, Justin smiled at Marcus and nodded.
“I’m going to see what’s up with Richard. Come to our office when you have checked on Daisy.”
Robert interrupted their conversation, “Justin there is a more serious issue.
I’m sure Peter will fill you in, but there’s no need for outsiders to be involved. We can talk about it after you’ve finished with Brooks.” Robert was making it clear that he thought Marcus was an outsider too, even though he didn’t mention his name. Justin didn’t have time for this, whatever it was, so he decided he’d deal with it later.
Justin walked to the office after Marcus took the stairs to the second floor.
He could hear the shouting before he even reached the door.
“I don’t care who she is to you or what you think she’s after; you can’t come into this hotel and badger people.” Peter was clearly livid. “Now shut the fuck up and sit your ass down. Justin will be here—”
“I don’t give a damn about Justin. The only thing I care about right now is my mother,” Richard Brooks shouted at the top of his lungs.
Justin stared at Richard, expecting to see him unsteady on his feet, drunk even in the middle of the day. But he wasn’t. In fact, Richard looked healthier than Justin had seen him in years. Now he realized that was what had thrown him off about Richard when he’d visited him at home yesterday.
His skin had a sunny glow about it, though his face was flushed with heat and anger at the moment. He’d cut his hair and was clean-shaven. Without the shaggy hair and three-day scruff he looked younger, attractive.
